1948 Buick: Hot, Rusty, Memorable.

My artist friend in Boulder, James Terman, is an inveterate old car illustrator, collector and philosopher. 


"I wonder which of the vehicles we lean up against today," muses James, "might end up being the rusty relics of our grandchildren's senior years?"

Seeing (and painting) some of these old hulks also makes Terman speculate that he might have crossed paths with this Detroit Iron in an earlier life.


"From the time my eyes could first notice cars and trucks, maybe I saw some of these rusting hulks in good condition somewhere, driving down the the road, or working a field?"


Terman wonders: 


"How many cars and trucks, buses and steam shovels might I have taken in .... as a little kid .... just standing on the back seat of our four-door .... leaning over the front .... as my old man drove our Pontiac sedan on family trips?"


James opened the floodgate for me!   Trips my family took ... in the Buick Century Station Wagon ... from our home in Ohio to places too many to remember them all. 


We hit Gettysburg in Pennsylvania, Niagara Falls in Upstate New York, Algonquin Provincial Park in Ontario, New England, Florida ... all the while pulling a little trailer from Sears, Roebuck + Co., painted silver and black to match the color scheme of the Buick.


Wonder where all those relics are today? And whether you, dear reader, had experiences of your own that mirrored James's and mine?

Hot Bike Shirt, Toasty Bike Rider!

SPF 60 slathered all over my face, I'm ready to hit the road for some serious mileage.  Nancy snapped the pic of me and the shirt (birthday gift from my brother Joe who picked this rare item up at the Woody Creek Tavern outside Aspen, CO) before she sent me on my ride today. It's 90-degrees in the West Metro, but the shirt, the shirt:  made me feel cool as a cuke.

Stopping for the Pause that Refreshes.

Nothing hits the spot like fresh lemonade!  And when the price is right, and the service first class,  and a serious cyclist-thirst slaked, then you've got to share the good news. And, leave a handsome tip.

Noerenberg Gardens at Macro Best.

I've got this 3-year old Canon G-10.  No aspect of the camera is more fun (and results awe-inspiring) than Macro format -- the sharpness of the lens, the ability to compress depth of field like an SLR does, and manual setting options that let the photog (me) underexpose, or use fill flash.

When Nancy and I were at a marvelous open house at Noerenberg Gardens last night, the "perfect flower shots" could be counted in the hundreds.  So much to see ... the gardens so exquisitely maintained and lovingly tended .. and no breeze so a hand-held macro shot would be perfect in every detail.

Somewhere inside one of the flowers there's a bumble bee "doing his thing."  I'll try again next year to catch the action on my SD card.

Spiritual Road Trip: Thomas a' Kempis.

I'm on a "spiritual road trip," as my daughter Sky would refer to my never-ending quest for enlightenment, connection and personal growth. I'm not actually in the KIA Sportage today, though I've hit the road before, in hopes of finding "the answer" someplace other than where I was.

I'm in my fave chair at home in Long Lake. It's so quiet at this early hour that I can barely believe my good fortune.  I'm reading "The Inner Life," by the 15th century theologian and essayist Thomas a' Kempis. The book is part of the Penguin "Great Ideas" series -- 'thinkers, pioneers, radicals and visionaries whose ideas shook civilization and helped make us who we are,' as the publisher explains.

Penguin continues,  "a' Kempis offered spiritual guidance to millions with his eloquent reflections on the virtues of humility and the profound power of faith."

Let me quote you, dear reader, some ideas that moved me forward this morning:

"A true understanding and humble estimate of oneself is the highest and most valuable of all lessons."

"The more humble a man is the more wise and at peace he will be in all that he does."

And this, my favorite by far, so far:

"Whoever loves much, does much. Whoever does a thing well, does much. And he does well, who serves the community before his own interests."

Finally: "Be peaceful with yourself, and you will be able to bring peace to others."

NAMG Employee, Alumni Reunion.

Jowett and I were having coffee catch-up this afternoon at Dunn Bros. in Hopkins. "Don't look now," teases Jim. "But, look who's coming ....!"

Of course I looked. And so glad I did. Dear friend of Jim's and mine, and colleague at North American Media Group, Kathy Childers, was on her way in for an Arnie Palmer refill. Jim grabbed Kathy, offered her a seat at our table, and we jammed in an hour's worth of chat in about 15 minutes.  What a treat.

Helen Gurley Brown, legendary editor of Cosmopolitan magazine always says: "Old friends are the best kind." And how right she is.  And when I think of my career in magazine publishing at NAMG, I count Kathy and Jim among my best friends and time with them as favorite memories.

Ain't we the lucky ones?

Dunn Bros., Uptown Mpls., Classic.

They roast their own beans here in the Uptown store, as they do in every other Dunn Bros. java shop I've visited.  Great coffee taste, aroma, variety, karma, cookies, clientele, places to sit, chill, read the paper, make some journal entries.  Through the adjoining door you'll find Calhoun Cycles, and the most appealing and seductive variety of Brompton Folding Cycles.  What a day!

High School Reunion Choate Class '61.

Long Lake weather cooperated yesterday (7/23/11) as Choate '61 classmates and wives come to see Nancy and me for lunch and a swim.

Pictured above, L-R: Allan and Darnell Hancock, Ellie and Clip Kniffin and Nancy ("Sam") and yours truly.

Occasion?

The Kniffins were in the Twin Cities from Chicago-land to visit son Drew and his bride.  When the Hoyts heard that they invited the Senior Kniffins out to our place, and included the Hancocks, who live in Brooklyn Center, MN.

The guys share in common their high school affiliation: graduates of the class of 1961 from Choate School in Wallingford, CT. And while we three boys haven't seen much of each other over the past half-century, we celebrated a 50th H.S. reunion in mid-May and vowed to make every effort to stay in touch .... and continue to build new friendships on the foundation of what we established as adolescent school-mates so long ago.

As for the distaff side:  the ladies seem to really enjoy each others' company, share many interests in common, and don't mind the guys behaving likely jerky high school pals!

1963 Porsche Restoration.

When we got to Caribou Coffee in Long Lake for our regular Friday morning java-jolt, Jim Hillegass and I drooled over the remarkable Porsche coupe you see in the above foto.

It was a classic -- of course we could tell that.  A serious oldie-but-goodie. The condition was Mint-Plus. Maybe better than new, and as fine as anything I've seen this side of the Barrett-Jackson auctions in Scottsdale.

The rear deck said model '60,' and when Jim and I chatted up the owner inside Caribou, she beamed with understandable pride. The year of manufacture was 1963, she told us.

Why the special nostalgia for me?

It called up memories of my father's 1959 Porsche 1600. When I photographed the Silver Lady in the parking lot it was almost like walking (driving?) in a dream.

Charles N. Hoyt, MD purchased his coupe in New York City in the fall of 1959. On a road trip from Chillicothe, Ohio, back east to see family and friends, the old man couldn't resist stopping at Zumbach Motors on Manhattan's West Side -- just to take a peek, you know. Dr. Chesty fell prey to the siren song of Dr. Ferdinand Porsche. The rest is history.

No one in Ross County had a car anything like Dad's.  This baby was painted a robin's egg blue. It sported black (I think) leather upholstery. I can almost remember the smell. The spunky 4-banger rear engine was torquey enough to snap your neck during acceleration.  And the precision steering, and absence of any noise coming from where engines are normally found, made the driving experience as eerie as it was exciting.

I had my license back then -- barely -- and strict orders to stay out of The Porsche.  I kinda obeyed those orders. But when Dad was out of town, and my friend and co-conspirator Doug McVicker showed up in his Dad's MGA convertible, and challenged me to a race out Greenfield Pike, off we went -- and out the window went the rules.

The contest was a draw. Porsche tied the MGA. Bill McVicker (Doug's dad) never found out about the race.  Neither did Dr. Hoyt. We kids dodged a bullet. We were so-so drivers at best; had no business boosting our father's prized sports cars. Thank God we made it back alive.

I'll have to tell the Silver Lady Porsche owner this story next time I see her.


A guy never forgets his first Porsche.

Quigley and "John Dory" Take the Cup.

Cap'n. Peter Quigley, a member of Indian Harbor Yacht Club in Greenwich, CT, is a helluva skipper. You can see him at the helm of "John Dory," his exquisite Fish-Class daysailer, which was designed and built by the iconic Nat Hereshoff in Bristol, RI, way back in the 1920's, before the readers of Poppy's Velo Ventures were even born.

Peter said he won his race -- and the respect of his fellow sailors -- with an instinctive feel for his boat and how she plays in the quirky wind on Long Island Sound.

"I'm like a horse whisperer," says Quigley, " except I talk to 'John Dory.' And she talks back to me."

Velo-tribute to Hunter S. Thompson.

Damn if this hardbody don't remind the casual cyclist of the late, great, crazed Dr. Hunter S. Thompson. And just for velo yucks, check out the winner's jersey -- straight from behind the bar at the iconic Woody Creek Tavern -- hangout of the late HST, and, it turns out, my brother Joe Hoyt (still standing, happy to report).

Joe reports that "the look" and HST's inspiration, helped him climb straight up the Rockies to 10,000 feet, never having to get off the bike to push.

Lords and Lady of Lord Fletcher's.

Iconic and classic fine dining and lakeside watering hole, Lord Fletcher's in Minnetrista, was the scene last night of a fab dinner reunion of the Hoyts and old friend and mag industry colleague, Peter Quigley.

PQ, who worked for 3M in St. Paul before he launched Ad-Ink, his own, flourishing company in Stamford, CT, was back on our turf for a business trip. We met up for surf and turf at Lord Fletcher's on Lake Minnetonka -- easily one of the best restaurants in the Metro.

You can read about Quigley's lobster tail, and the Hoyts' walleye menu selection in the post to your right. Meanwhile, let me tell you, dear reader, it was great to be in PQ's company, and such fun to hang out and yack for hours about magazines, old sales guys we know, sailing in Long Island Sound, mutual pals in Fairfield County, CT, kids, horses, Knights of Malta, and so forth.

Hurry back, Quigley, and bring Margaret with you when you return!

Roadside Litter Death-Grip? Uh, oh.

You've read my rants on Poppy's Velo Ventures about picking up massive amounts of roadside litter.  I've found and discarded all manner of trash: bottles, cans, cigarette boxes, firecrackers, children's toys, shirts, shoes, fast food, even a five dollar bill!  Actually, I kept and spent the five-spot.

But THIS thing .. yipes.  A death message it seems.  Sure did get my attention.

The empty litre bottle of vodka is super-bottom shelf brand.  Just what a litter king would swig, swallow and discard.  The work glove, on the other hand, is a serious professional tool. And the guy who lost that must be kicking himself -- nicely broken in and costly to replace.

What if, (uh, oh) the dude with the glove did a bottoms-up on the vodka? And then he (tipsy, angry, confused) stepped into an oncoming car and, pow, curtains?

Drinking and driving don't mix.  Drinking and work gloves don't mix. Remember that.

Crock Pot Chili Like Mama Made!

Our San Fran Jason cooks up a big, eat-for-a-week pot of vegan chili.

4 zucs

3 yellow squash

full onion

two cans of black and 1 large can of kidney

Small can of tom. paste

two cans of crushed tomatos and green chilies(in the same can)

8 mini carrots

half a can of water

pkt of chili powder (Original)

 

Suffice it to say that Son called Mom for a little cuisine coaching and, volia!  Check out the results.

Old-Time Auto Ad Graphics, St. Paul, MN.

How can you NOT love these old-time ad graphics?  Don't you just want to take your car in, right now, get it fixed, whatever?

Such a fine sense of humor.  So different from every other garage you see these days. Makes you feel good all over. You can trust these guys.

Chem 'em out. M + J Auto Repair. Corner of Feronia + North Prior in St. Paul.